


a soft place to fall

by porcelainsimplicity



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Post-Film, mental sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainsimplicity/pseuds/porcelainsimplicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>they're not my characters, i just played with them for a little while.</p>
    </blockquote>





	a soft place to fall

**Author's Note:**

> they're not my characters, i just played with them for a little while.

Erik walked around the new forest bunker, inspecting every inch with a detailed eye. It was full of hard stone and sharp edges, and the calming presence of metal that's cool to the touch. He could feel the eyes of the Brotherhood upon him, waiting patiently for him to give his approval, and with a short nod, he could almost feel their relief.

“Leave me.”

They filed out of the room, steps echoing through the chamber as they make their way up the steps and back into the forest above. Once he heard the heavy sound of the door shutting, he made his way over to the desk they'd created for him and sat down. The desk was no different than the rest of the bunker, hard, sharp, and metal, and he ran his hands over it carefully, savoring the unblemished surface. 

It was too smooth. He'd have to fix that later.

He leaned back in the chair and lets his eyes close, sighing a heavy breath. This place was built with a thought of calling it home, but now that he's there, he realized how silly that idea had been. He hasn't had a home since he was a child, since he was ruthlessly taken from it and sent on this path. He's been on the run for longer than he can remember, jumping from location to location, crossing the country or the world. First he was chasing his past, then he was chasing his future, but now...now he's just tired of it all.

He stood up from the chair and makes his way over to the bed, letting the cape fall from his shoulders to the floor and debating with himself for a moment before sliding the helmet off of his head and setting it aside. He lied down on the small mattress and closes his eyes, thinking that if he could just get some sleep, just a little, he might just be able to make it through another day.

But sleep is hard to come by on the best of nights, and when it does, he always dreams of things that he wishes he'd forget. A mansion in New York, the feeling of gentle breath against the back of his neck, a mahogany headboard quietly banging against the wall. Everything about the dreams is full of light and hope, of soft skin and an even softer bed. He'd had a purpose then, one that wasn't entirely about himself, one that had given him the thought of a future.

But not the future he's been chasing.

Erik felt the presence enter his mind and an arm reached out to grab the helmet, but then the teasing sound of his favorite voice filled his head and his outstretched arm went limp before it could grab it.

_About time you took that helmet off. Close your eyes._

He doesn't know why he does it, but his eyes drift closed and then suddenly he's standing in the hallway outside Charles's bedroom door, and Charles is leaning against the door frame in front of him. All he could do was stare at him for a few moments, take in the beauty of the face that he hasn't seen for so long, and then Charles was smiling at him and holding out his hand.

“Come inside.”

“How is this possible?” he asked, letting his eyes drift down to Charles's outstretched hand.

“Anything is possible inside the mind,” Charles said softly.

“So this isn't real then?”

“Physically? No. But it's just as real as any thought you or I ever have.” Charles smiled again. “Come on.”

He took Charles's hand and let him lead him into the bedroom, but he wasn't done with his questions. “So I'm still in my bed.”

“If that is where you were, then yes.”

“And you are?”

“In Cerebro,” Charles murmured, pulling the bedspread off the bed and tossing it to the floor. “I go in there at night when the others are asleep, see how far I can stretch my mind. Often I search for you, hoping for that one moment when you let your guard down. You did tonight, and I won't ask why. I'll just take advantage of it.” 

Erik wanted to ask what Charles meant, but suddenly Charles was right in front of him, and then their lips were together, the soft kiss quickly turning into something far more passionate. He didn't resist when Charles started to undress him, and after a soft graze of lips along the side of Charles's neck, his hands get with the program and begin to remove Charles's clothes as well. 

“Don't think,” Charles murmured. “Just feel.”

Once they were skin on skin, he was lost. And it was exactly as he remembered it to be, soft and warm and rough all at the same time. And there was the gentle breath along the back of his neck, and the banging of the mahogany headboard into the wall, and somewhere in the middle of it he wondered if it was exactly as he remembered because it wasn't actually happening, because it was only a conjured up image in his mind. 

They laid in silence once it was over, Erik's hands behind his head, Charles's arm slung across his waist. Charles kept sliding his right leg up and down Erik's, and he went to ask why before he remembered the report on Charles's health following the shooting, and smiled as he realized Charles was probably just enjoying the use of his legs again. Charles shifted against him so that they were looking at each other, and there was an understanding in his eyes that Erik hadn't expected to find there.

“If there is one thing that I have always valued in people,” Charles said softly, “it is when they stand up and fight for what they believe in. You and I may disagree on mutants' place in society, but I will always respect your right to feel the way that you do. And that, more than anything, is why I understand you leaving me on that beach.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” Erik managed to say, his emotions welling up and choking him. “You have to know that.”

“I've always known that,” Charles murmured, pressing a kiss to the center of Erik's chest. “Do you know why I've been hoping for this moment?”

“So that we could mind fuck?”

Charles shook his head, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “I've been hoping for this moment so that I could let you know that you always have a place to come back to. This room, this space, what we did here – that belongs to no one but the two of us, Erik. And inside here, we are nothing more than two men who care a great deal for one another. Because you can disagree with people you care for, you know. It doesn't mean you have to become mortal enemies.”

“I don't think of you as my mortal enemy,” Erik said softly. “And I have no idea how I'll ever make it back to this place.”

“Take your helmet off more often,” Charles said seriously. “Leave your mind open to me. And I will find you, Erik. I will always find you.”

Erik stayed silent, and Charles eventually broke their gaze, climbing off of the bed and reaching for his clothes. “I reckon by now I've been in Cerebro for too long. Hank's probably going to find me at any moment.”

Erik laid there as Charles dressed, sighing softly when he bent down to kiss him softly. “And how do I get out of here?”

“Get up, get dressed, and walk out of the door,” Charles murmured, nodding in the door's direction. “Then open your eyes, and you'll be back in your bed.”

Erik climbed from the bed and reached for his shirt, watching as Charles fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves. “Do you use Cerebro every night?”

“Most nights,” Charles admitted, looking up at him with a soft smile. “There are so many of us, Erik. I wish you could see it.”

“Maybe one night you can show me,” Erik said as he pulled on his pants.

“Perhaps.”

Once they were both fully dressed, Charles drew Erik to him one last time and kissed him softly. “I will see you again, my friend.”

“Yes,” Erik said. “I suspect you will.”

Then Erik turned to the door and walked out of it. He looked around the hallway for a moment, just like he used to, then closed his eyes. 

When he opened them again, he was in his bed, in the bunker, in the middle of the forest, alone. His arm was still stretched in the direction of his helmet, his cape still in a heap on the floor. He blinked several times as he got used to the fact that he was still there, as he accepted that he'd never really been in the mansion, as he recalled what it was he and Charles had talked about.

Then he reached towards the helmet, grabbed it off the small table, and carefully slid it back on.


End file.
